Their perception of legacy extends beyond results - they want to be judged holistically; for their standing off the field to be as prevalent and recognisable as their achievements on it. How they behave, what they support and with whom they engage are all important factors in that.
The difficulty they face around the World Cup is being able to be what they want to be: preserve their right to be masters of their own agenda. This is the thing about World Cups, suddenly everyone is interested in rugby and everyone wants a piece of the All Blacks.
It becomes decidedly hard for them to be at ease with life - as was evidenced with the official squad announcement. If it had been up to the players to choose the venue, Parliament would have been nowhere near the shortlist.
But it wasn't up to the players. New Zealand Rugby Union chief executive Steve Tew made the decision to announce the squad in Wellington.
The fit was all wrong. Politics is a divisive subject - a source of tension and conflict in many communities. This idea - as pushed by the Minister for Sport and Recreation, Dr Jonathan Coleman - that the Beehive was the perfect venue given it is the place where all of New Zealand is represented, was flimsy, lazy spin that doesn't stand up to scrutiny.
Without putting too fine a point on it, no one particularly likes politicians. Who doesn't troop to the voting booth with a heavy heart, trying to determine of all the options on the ballot paper, which can be ticked with the least damage to the soul?
When the All Blacks connect with the people, they don't want politicians to be the conduit. Besides, if the point of the exercise last Sunday was to connect with the people, why hold the announcement in New Zealand's highest-security building, with a vetted and tightly controlled guest list? And why broadcast it exclusively on a pay-per-view channel - denying at least half of New Zealand the chance to consume the news live?
Sunday night wasn't about the people. It was about the politicians who could see they were being thrown a no-risk, win-win scenario. What value to the National Party that picture of Dr Coleman and John Key, grinning inanely in the front row of the official team shot?
They can ride the wave of public interest knowing that if the All Blacks win the World Cup, they have publicity gold. And if they don't, Key and Coleman can quietly distance themselves when the team returns.
The indisputable proof the whole evening wasn't about the All Blacks came when leader of the Opposition, Andrew Little, could no longer contain himself. After the cameras snapped a handful of shots with Key and Coleman, he strode across the floor, shoulder slightly dipped, looking to force his way into the frame.
He managed it but what he and his peers probably failed to notice was that when it was time to mix and mingle, the All Black players, almost to a man, headed straight for the pitiful number of schoolkids who had been invited.
That was the moment that said it all: the All Blacks weren't there by choice but their professionalism enabled them to smile and small-talk their way through it without fuss. Left to their own devices, the players gravitated towards the respective captains of the various Wellington Schools First XVs who were there. They shook hands; offered advice and looked, for the only time in the whole evening, to be at ease.
But of course the cameras weren't on for that bit. The archives will paint an altogether different picture of a glitzy do at the seat of power.
History can be unforgiving and a squad announcement at Parliament will look awfully like hubris if the World Cup campaign doesn't go as planned. Which brings things back to the point at hand - if it had been up to the players, they wouldn't have been at Parliament.
